Anger
by firstdragonrider
Summary: The locket has more of an effect on Harry than he thinks. What happens when it causes him to lash out at his best friend? Harry/Hermione friendship and comfort.


_A/N: I tried to make this as canon as possible and I hope it worked out okay. This takes place in Deathly Hollows when Harry and Hermione are traveling around by themselves. I felt as though the locket would have a pretty intense effect on Harry, but that was never really explored when it was just him and Hermione. Enjoy!_

**Anger**

"Filthy bastard." Hermione looked up sharply from her book to find Harry sitting on the couch in front of the fire place with his hands clasped, leaning slightly forward. The words had been quiet, but loud enough for Hermione to hear them over the rain and wind that was pelting their tent. It had been an awful couple of days, including nothing but rain and dark skies and a bone-chilling cold that had refused to disappear even with the fireplace and thick sweaters.

"What?" she asked, slightly confused at her friend's choice of words.

"Filthy bastard." Harry said again, a bit louder this time with a slight hiss to it. He rubbed his hands together against the cold, trying to dispel the annoyance and anger building up inside of him.

"Who?" The word felt too loud in the near silence. She studied Harry closely, noticing how his body was tense and how his head twitched. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek, worried.

"Who? Guess who Hermione." Harry turned to look at her, irritation and anger sparking in his eyes. His mouth was pressed into a thin line and he clutched the back of the couch tightly. His words were hard and cold. Uncaring. Hermione didn't respond, but stared at him calmly. "Weasley. That's who. Coward." Harry turned back to staring at the fireplace, trying to ignore the headache that was starting to creep into his mind. Silence settled over them again as Hermione tried to understand his words properly. She closed her book slowly and angled her body toward him, fully intent on finally talking about their certain red-haired elephant in the room.

"Don't say that." Hermione's voice took on a flat tone as she furrowed her eyebrows. She realized that perhaps this was not the best way to lead into the conversation, but she couldn't help but defend Ron. Even thinking that didn't make much sense to her.

"And why not? He left, didn't he?" Harry pressed his mouth together into a thin line. "Everything was too much for him; he couldn't bare it any more. He's a coward, that's what he is." It felt good to say those words. Harry could almost picture the slightly-hurt expression on Hermione's face without turning around and that made him feel a little bit better. "He's always been a coward." Harry abruptly stood up and started pacing. He tried to subdue whatever it was that was building in his chest. But everything was so unfair. Ron had left them. Ron had left _him. _He had no idea what to do. He had no fucking idea where the damn Horcruxes were and they weren't making any progress. He kicked the sofa, causing it to screech and making Hermione jump.

"Ron isn't a coward," Hermione ventured softly, sliding the book away from herself. He looked at her sharply, eyes narrowing. Hermione felt her heartbeat quicken as she saw the slightly familiar flash of hate in his eyes. She had seen that before, but the eyes had been a different color and the hair had been orange instead of black. She couldn't help but feel worry start to gnaw at her gut.

"Of course _you _would say that." He spat. "Well then, go, leave just like him." He arched his neck slightly to get away from the dull pain in his forehead. It mixed with the anger in his chest and he huffed out in impatience.

"I'm not going to leave Harry," Hermione said curtly, standing up and looking annoyed. This was supposed to be a conversation, not a fight. They didn't need this argument. Not now.

"And why not? What is stopping you? Are you that dependent on me?" He looked directly at her. "Can't you take care of yourself for once 'Mione?" The words were harsh and uncaring. Hermione opened her mouth slightly but snapped it shut, her eyes betraying hurt. Ron's words echoed in the back of her mind and she almost felt like coming up with a retort but pushed the idea away quickly.

"What's gotten into you exactly?" she asked instead, her voice rising in volume slightly. The increase in sound jabbed into his head painfully and he glared at her.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the fact that we aren't getting anywhere." He struggled to find words before pointing accusingly at the book on the table. "You're just sitting there reading your stupid damn book and we're getting nowhere!"

"And you're blaming this on me?" Hermione scoffed, raising her hands in defense. Harry averted his eyes for a brief moment, knowing that he should stop. She softened her face, hoping that this was the end of the argument. "Harry," she began quietly, feeling the urge to reach out and comfort him somehow.

"Dumbledore must have given you that book for a reason, right?" The words welled back up out of his mouth, sounding harsher than before. "If you're so bloody brilliant, why haven't you figured it out yet?" Her face dropped and she sighed, watching as Harry suddenly took a step toward her with a dark expression in his eyes. She took a step back, giving him a warning look. He seemed to change his mind and continued to pace.

"Harry, what's wrong?" Hermione tried again, lowering her voice in an attempt to calm her friend down. He gave a dry laugh, and it scared her when she didn't recognize it as something Harry would do.

"Everything is wrong Hermione." He growled quietly to himself, pulling his wand out and gripping it tightly as he tried to make sense of all this idiocy. He clutched at his head as the headache prodded him painfully. The anger built up inside him again and the look of pity on Hermione's face did nothing but make him more furious. "Stupid mudblood." The words slipped past his tongue before he had time to think about them, but all he felt was a smug satisfaction settling in the pit of his stomach. He glanced at Hermione whose hands had dropped to her side. She opened her mouth to say something in retort but seemed to catch herself. He could tell that she was trying hard to retain her composure.

"What did you call me?" She asked instead, her voice low and slightly quivering. Somewhere inside, a part of Harry knew how terribly wrong this conversation was going, but it was quickly washed over by a cold sensation in his chest that numbed any feelings. "Harry I need you to take the horcrux off. Now." She tried to instill a bit of command into her voice but it was faltering to be replaced by an aching hurt.

"Mudblood." Harry spat angrily, ignoring her request. "Do you have a problem with that?" She tried hard to dispel the tears that were beginning to well up in her eyes. Harry sneered at her, his mouth curling into a cruel smile.

"Yes. I do actually, and I would like it if you apologized." Her lips trembled slightly as her eyes stung. Anger bubbled up further inside of Harry. This time he did approach her, and he could see her grabbing her wand out of her pocket automatically.

"I have nothing to apologize for." He said in annoyance, stopping a foot away from her and lowering his voice. She raised her chin slightly and blinked hard to fight away the tears. "Am I frightening you?" He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes.

"Harry Potter, stop this instance. Take off the pendant, it's affecting you again." This did nothing to calm Harry down, but instead he moved forward just an inch. It was enough for Hermione to instantly feel threatened. She glanced down at his wand which he had clutched so tightly that she could see the white of his knuckles. He glanced down at hers as well before bringing his eyes back up to meet hers. The silence was deafening and he searched her face for any hint of aggression. He found himself surprised that he almost yearned for some sort of reaction so that he could respond in kind. She kept her face blank, but he could clearly see the confusion and fear in her eyes. She hated the tension. She hated the fact that her best friend was standing in front of her with a look in his eyes that she didn't recognize. She hated that she was scared of him. "Please stop," she breathed, her voice shaky and pleading.

"You can't control me."

"And you can't call your best friend a mudblood." She whispered back, her lip quivering. Harry let out a loud snarl which caused Hermione to jump. He turned away from Hermione and stalked back to the couch. She hastily lowered her wand, not aware that she had unconsciously raised it slightly in defense. This continued for at least a minute, and Hermione went over everything in her head that could calm Harry down. She forced herself to relax a little bit and took a tentative step forward. "Harry, Dumbledore wouldn't have-"

"No one understands!" he cut her off with a roar, waving his wand and causing the cups that were standing on a nearby table to go crashing to the ground. Hermione flinched, gripping her wand tighter.

"Just take off the pendant," she pleaded with him. She bit down on her bottom lip, watching him carefully as he continued to stalk back and forth. It reminded her of a trapped animal.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing anymore," he yelled, clutching at his head with his wand still in his hand. The headache was unbearable. He could feel the horcrux heavy against his skin and he snarled again, throwing his wand away from him in anger. He sunk down onto his knees, closing his eyes against the pain and the cold and the _heaviness _of everything. The anger was still there, but he swallowed it, and suddenly everything became freezing and hopeless. He vaguely made out his name being called from above before he felt two warm hands unclasp the pendant from around his neck and toss it away onto the floor. He hadn't been aware of how cold his chest had become or how it suddenly felt like a noose had been loosened from around his throat. The hands grabbed both sides of his face and forced him to look up. Hermione didn't say anything; she just gently shushed him when he started to spill out apologies and regrets and fears. He tried hard not to cry, he really did, but when Hermione guided his forehead to her shoulder, he couldn't help but choke out a sob. She carefully smoothed down the hair on the back of his neck and rubbed his back with her other hand, letting him cry quietly into her shoulder.

"'Mione, I'm sorry," he finally stuttered, feeling a wave of exhaustion sweep across him. He pulled back to look her in the eyes and saw that she had also been crying.

"It's okay, just don't ever do that again," she said quickly, wiping her face with the back of her hand. He nodded in agreement, pressing his lips together again to try to stem the emotion that was trying to overflow again.

"I just need a few minutes," he mumbled, dropping his eyes to his hands which were lying useless in his lap. Hermione nodded and pulled him toward her roughly, squeezing him tight and planting a soft kiss on the top of his head before she stood.

"Love you," she murmured to him, her hand resting on his shoulder for just a second more before going to pick up the locket and clenching it tightly in her hand, hoping that Harry wouldn't notice that she was trembling from relief that he hadn't done something worse.


End file.
